Broken
by Kurohane Ookami
Summary: He was always known as the Primera. But who was Coyote Starrk before he became an Espada? AU, All Human. M for language and theme.
1. Chapter 1

**Alrighty folks, let's get this show on the road. The inspiration for this fiction comes from the fact that I helped Singer out a while back with a series of one-shots based off of the Espada and their aspect of Death. Starrk's, being Loneliness, was one of the two that I wrote, (the other being Szayel) and after writing Starrk's, it was pointed out that his one-shot would make an awesome full length fic. So, after much procrastinating and a two week road trip with no wifi to do research for my other fics, I decided what the hell and am now working on this fic.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach in any way, shape or form. However, I do own the plot. **

**-;-**

Prologue

He was what some would call an introverted child. Not a lot of friends, quiet, only speaking when spoken to. He was polite, however, and he managed to charm most of the neighborhood women with his small faint smiles and laughs.

But there were a great many reasons that he was quiet. It wasn't that he was abused, or bullied, per say, but there was a particular reason that most found reasons to prey upon.

His parents had died in a car crash just barely seven months previous to starting the third grade, and himself in the hospital for two of those seven months to recover from the injuries he'd sustained from the very same crash. His already short brown curls were nearly shaved off, and his slate eyes were dull. The shock, the doctors said, would only last a few short weeks. But they were wrong. It left a lasting impression on the now orphaned boy, and only a couple of people considered to be something of a friend to him knew that much. His older grandmother, for one; the other being his favorite stuffed toy; a grey wolf plush he'd named Los Lobos.

School, as it was, wasn't much relief. Even in early grades, having no parents was considered strange, or was just enough reason for the future bullies to laugh about as he passed by in the halls, shoulders hunched slightly and mouth set in a firm line. Calling him _freak_, and _weirdo_; even going so far as to throw pinecones at him during lunch when he sat on the swings and dragged his bare feet over the smooth gravel.

His name, too, was a good enough reason to name call. Apparently, naming your child 'Coyote' was enough to earn just a little more teasing to the already bad verbal abuse that he suffered through. And what was worse, there always seemed to be no one there to comfort the trembling boy once the other kids were through their daily dose of hurt. So, he curled in on himself, a flower withering before it even bloomed. Coyote Starrk was the child that nobody but his Nana and his stuffed wolf wanted.

And his life was one of tragedy.


	2. Chapter 2

The empty halls were silent of the small school, the silence soothing to his ears as he slowly walked down the much different landscape. It was strange, really, how one place could be so drastically altered by simply removing the students and staff. Mind, he was also relieved that he'd managed to catch Ms. Ogenichi before she'd left for home and ask about the homework she'd assigned. One of the questions had been really confusing.

"Hey! Freak!"

Starrk turned, grey eyes blinking as he noted that there was someone calling at him. At this point, it didn't even occur to him that his own name wasn't being called, but the usual petty taunt that might have been an effort at trying to rile him up. Nana had told him that the 'bullies' were just idiots, and that he should just ignore them for the most part. Los Lobos agreed with her, of course, because stuffed animals are wont to do such things, after all.

"Where's your mummy and daddy at?" the boy sneered, panting as he stopped in his chase and simply looked at the brown haired boy as though he were the superior being. His blue backpack hung off one shoulder awkwardly, but he didn't comment on it. Probably wouldn't make any difference in the end, anyway. Instead, Starrk simply gave him a blank look, silently wondering why everyone who liked to tease him would continue asking that question if they already knew the answer. You'd think that after two years, people would know why his parents weren't around.

The boy, Nigi, was scrawnier than the other students, but had a mouth of barbs and a quick fist to make up for his lack of weight. His black hair was cropped short, and his hazel eyes were challenging Starrk to make a move. Really, though, he didn't see the point.

Apparently, Nigi hadn't made his point enough. At Starrk's silence, the other boy darted forward, long fingers latching on tight around his still sore forearms. His left one had just gotten out of the cast, too. He'd fallen down the stairs and hurt it just before school had started, so he went into his sixth year with a still mildly bruised arm to go along with the rest of his scars that he'd gotten from the accident. His Nana had rolled her eyes after she'd had to take him to the hospital, too, giving his hair an affectionate ruffle as she hummed something about 'being a klutz in the making'.

"Let go." He stated, tugging lightly back, testing the waters. As he'd thought, the grip Nigi had on him only tightened, and Starrk was suddenly glad that he'd stayed a bit late after school to ask about the assignments that their teacher had given them. It meant that there was only the two of them, and no witnesses.

"No." Nigi sneered, further tightening his hold. Starrk silently wondered how that was even possible when he was sure that the other boy's grip had already been as vice-like as possible.

"You know where my parents are." Starrk finally sighed, knowing that there wasn't really any other way to get out of this one. Nigi's sneer grew wider at the brown haired boy's reply, and the black haired boy removed his hands from Starrk's arms, only to laugh.

"That's right. Your mummy and daddy are dead!" he cackled. "No one wants you!"

Starrk remained silent, doing his best to tune out the laughter that Nigi was letting out but unfortunately not having much luck. It was always the same thing, and by now he knew that he shouldn't let it bother him as much as it did, but there was just something about the way that everyone looked at him and treated him that secretly did. No matter how hard he tried not to let anyone see how much it bothered him, they always circled like sharks. They could just tell that he wasn't alright; he was a wounded, floundering seal, and he was the ideal prey.

Eventually, Nigi finally stopped laughing, and he grinned broadly at Starrk for a long moment before turning on his heel and running back the way he'd come.

Just another normal day for him.

-;-

"I'm home, Nana." He greeted as he entered the door, closing it softly behind him. His grandmother, white haired and wrinkled all over, looked up from her magazine and smiled softly at him.

"Welcome home, Coyote." She greeted, patting the seat next to her on the couch invitingly. "How was school?"

"The usual." He shrugged.

His Nana, bright as she was, eyed him up, no doubt searching for any wounds that he may have sustained somewhere, somehow. And of course, her hawk-eyes picked up on the faint bruises that were already appearing on his arms.

"Coyote…." She said warningly, crossing her eyes and giving the mature eleven year old a stern look. "What happened this time."

"It's nothing. I just met up with someone after school." The brown haired boy shrugged, dropping his messenger bag on the floor by the stairs to take up to his room later. "Trust me Nana, I'm fine."

"Now Coyote, don't you try to give me that load of shit." The older woman stated bluntly, not sparing any decency and getting right to the point. "If there's still problems, I want to hear about them."

He was about to say that there really weren't any problems, but then his Nana gave him an even scarier look, and he snapped his jaw closed and ducked his head to avoid said expression.

"There's still a couple." He finally admitted.

"And?"

"They're still bugging me about mum and dad." The brown haired boy continued reluctantly, seriously not wanting to have this conversation for the hundredth time but already resigning himself to the fact that he was about to get it again anyway.

But rather than the tirade that he'd been expecting, Starrk heard his Nana let out a gusty sigh. "Honey, I know you still have problems whenever your parents are brought up, but isn't it time that you try to put the past behind you?" she asked.

"I'm trying, Nana." He replied dutifully, not making eye contact with the elder woman. "May I go start my homework now?"

His Nana sighed silently, knowing now that she'd never get an answer out of him. There were only so many things that she could do to help her grandson, but he was far more delicate than some realized. She knew that he still stayed up late at night and watched the sky, as if some kind of divine sign would shine down on him, and on some nights, she could hear him cry himself to sleep. And it tore at her heart with sharp barbs of pain, but there was literally nothing that she could do about it. Starrk was like a wounded wolf; only when he was ready would he finally take the steps he needed to move on. And it just wasn't that time for him yet.

"Alright. I'll call you for dinner." She murmured, ruffling his hair.

"Yes, Nana." He replied quietly, grabbing his bag and retreating upstairs to his room.

Nana sighed again, seating herself back down on the couch but not picking up her magazine. Eleven years old, and already it was very clear that her grandson would have a tough life ahead of him. The sixth grade seemed like nothing compared to that thought.

"Lord, please protect him." She whispered, touching the small silver cross that hung around her neck. "Give him the strength that he needs so that he will stay safe."


End file.
